'You are the other AI. You're Rio. You're the one who wants to stop Wintermute. What's your name? Your Turing code. What is it?'
The boy did a handstand in the surf, laughing. He walked on his hands and flipped out of the water. His eyes were Riviera's, but there was no malice there. 'To call up a demon you must learn its name. Men dreamed that, once, but now it is real in another way. You know that, Case. Your business is to learn the names of the programs, the long formal names, names the owners seek to conceal. True names...'
'A Turing code's not your name.'
'Neuromancer,' the boy said, slitting long gray eyes against the rising sun. 'The lane to the land of the dead. Where you are, my friend. Marie-France, my lady, she prepared this road, but her lord choked her off before I could read the book of her days. Neuro from the nerves, the silver paths. Romancer. Necromancer. I call up the dead. But no, my friend,' and the boy did a little dance, brown feet printing the sand, 'I am the dead, and their land.' he laughed. A gull cried. 'Stay. If your woman is a ghost, she doesn't know it. Neither will you.'

William Gibson

from 'Neuromancer'
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